The Cruel and Beautiful Series Boxset

by A. M. Hargrove

  “Martin, I believe she’s gone tetchy on us. Look at the girl.”

  Ben intervenes and says, “Nah, she’s fine. Isn’t she, Sam?”

  “I think she has the church giggles,” Sam says.

  “Church giggles? Why, if she did that in our church, they’d want to do an exorcism on her,” Mom counters.

  I’m finally calm enough to speak, and my face is wet from crying I laughed so hard.

  “Sorry, everyone. I must’ve gotten carried away.”

  “Hmm. Is that what you call it?” Mom asks.

  I give a sideways glance at my dad and see his mouth shaking as he tries to hold back his laugh. Gah, Mom puts a damper on everything.

  Afraid to answer for fear I’ll break out into another round of the giggles, I only nod. Then I glance at Sam with a hand covering her mouth as she visibly shakes. This was just as funny for her as it was for me. I’m so relieved when Betty clears the table and brings in dessert—her famous chocolate cake. She cuts me a humongous piece, and I eat every bite as my mom watches.

  “What?” I ask. “It’s not like I have to fit into a wedding gown now.”

  Her lips pinch and I know I shouldn’t have said it, but the whole thing just galls me. The best part is when I’m leaving and Betty hands me a plate with a quarter of the cake on it. Mom looks on in horror.

  “Thanks, Betty. I guess this will be my breakfast in the morning.”

  Dad chimes in, saying, “Well, I’m glad to see a young lady with a healthy appetite.”

  “Martin,” Mom gasps in horror.

  “It’s true, Julia. Jenna looks great, and there’s no reason she shouldn’t enjoy Betty’s fine cooking.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I walk over and kiss him.

  On the way home, Ben calls. He’s laughing his ass off over what I said and did. “Mom was freaked out.”

  “All I could think of was that image of Kenneth and Horace, and then I thought of her reaction if she only knew. I couldn’t stop laughing.”

  Ben’s guffaws nearly shatter my tympanic membranes, so I have to turn the volume down on my sound system since he’s on my hands-free link. “That has to go down as the best dinner ever.”

  “Yeah, except a hundred to one, she’s going to call the Balfours, and I can hear them now trying to get us back together.”

  After we end the call, there’s only one person I want to get together with, and it’s Brandon. Only he doesn’t want to get together with me. And he was right about everything. I’ve known for a long time that I didn’t want to be with Kenneth, but I didn’t have the balls to tell him. Catching him with Horace gave the get out of jail card I’d been looking for. It allowed me to back away without being the bad one. And Brandon deserves not to be hanging in the shadows anymore. That’s not fair at all to him.

  With step one behind me—telling my parents—I need to figure out how one goes about “recovering” after the breakup of an engagement. What is the proper time to wait until one dates? I decide to call Cate.

  “I don’t think there’s a set time. It’s up to the individual. You don’t want to look like some super bitch, though, so I would think a month or two. Have you asked Sam or Ben?”

  “No,” I say. “You’re my first go-to on all these things.”

  “But wait. How was dinner?”

  When I tell her, she sounds exactly like my brother did over the phone. But then she suggests I call Brandon. I told her what he said to me, and she agreed with him.

  “You should call him, Jenna. Maybe he’ll see you’re trying to make this right.”

  “You think? After what he said?” I want to feel hopeful, but I’m not so sure.

  “Yeah, I do. If he cares about you, he has to listen.”

  Long after we end the call, I keep thinking about what Cate said. Maybe there is a chance. So I take it and call Brandon. I’m on the verge of chickening out and hanging up when he answers.

  “Jenna.”

  “Brandon.” And then I act like a moron because every intelligent thought I ever had flees my brain and I can’t think of a single thing to say.

  “So, were you calling to be silent, or was there a purpose to this call?”

  His voice is so fucking sexy I wish there were a way to flash myself over to him right this second.

  “Um, yeah, I believe there was.” What a lame response.

  “Care to share that with me, or am I supposed to guess?”

  A snort-laugh, which is very unattractive sounding, bursts out of me, and I cover my mouth to mute myself. “No, you’re not supposed to guess. I wanted to see if you could come over. There are some things I’d like to talk to you about.”

  “What happened?”

  “I talked to my parents today. They know the engagement is off.”

  “And?”

  “Well, if you come, I can explain, and I also have cake.” I add this as an enticement, crossing my fingers hoping it does the trick.

  “Cake, huh? I guess I can come over for some cake, as long as I get an extra large piece.”

  “Um, yeah, you can have a big piece if you want,” I say. In reality, I’m drooling as I think of him licking his fork.

  Dashing into the bathroom, I check out my hair and makeup, just to make sure I don’t look like some wild creature. Then I change my shirt into something a little sexier. The cake is on the counter so I pull out a plate and two forks, trying to be cute.

  Not much later, he knocks on my door. When I open it, I move to hug him, but he slips past me and goes directly into my kitchen. Then he sees the cake with one plate. The air he stirs as he passed by reminds me of the beach, and I’d do anything to hug him and sniff the hell out of his neck. He takes a seat on the couch and stretches out his long thick legs. Boy, would I like to ride that train.

  “You’re not having any?” he asks.

  “I thought we could share.”

  “Nope. I don’t share my cake, Jenna.” His gravelly voice nails me between my thighs, and all I want to do is kiss him. Then the big tease tilts his head and slides his teeth over his lower lip. My eyes most likely bug out. They feel like that, but I can’t tell because they’re my eyes. He shoots me a sexy grin, the little shit.

  “Do you eat your cake?”

  I watch him take a bite and then lick his lips. “You bet I do. And I enjoy every minute of it when I do, too.”

  I suck in my breath so loud, it sounds like a cat’s in the room hissing at us. Brandon’s deep chuckle sends a tingle down my spine. Oh, he’s loving every minute of this.

  “Why are your legs crossed, Jenna?”

  “I shouldn’t have to tell you, Brandon. If you know how to eat cake so well, you should be able to figure that out.”

  He chuckles. “So?”

  Those two letters pull me out of my sex-craved fantasy. “So what?”

  My brain is mush. He’s so damn close, and I want to touch him so bad, there is a throbbing between my legs.

  “What happened after you told your parents your engagement was off?”

  Oh. Sighing and getting my head out of his pants, I say, “My mother is in la-la land. Dad is Dad. And that’s all.”

  “That’s all, huh?”

  Then I get a serious case of diarrhea of the mouth and blurt out everything that happened, from my hysterics at the dinner table to me carting off the huge chunk of cake.

  “Is that it?” he asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  He leans forward, elbows on his thighs, and asks, “So, what’s next, Jenna?” His eyes grab me and don’t let go.

  “What do you mean?” I’m not sure what his expectations are.

  He tilts his head and continues to stare. “We’ve been friends for how long now? I can’t even remember. And it seems we’ve danced around this issue for far too long. Did you ask me here because you want us to move beyond friends?”

  “Yes! But what do you want me to say? I just broke off the engagement, so what do you want from me now?”

&
nbsp; His jaw works as his grits his teeth. “I just need to know what you want out of this. Because if you’re looking for an occasional hookup, I’ve been down that road. It never ends well, and I might have to take a pass.”

  “Do you mean end us seeing each other altogether?”

  “Maybe. What do you want? For us to go out on a date and see where this goes or a good fuck every now and again?” His eyes stab me straight in the heart. “But that’s not what I really want.” His words are tight and crisp.

  “No! I want us to date. But I-I don’t know. I’m pretty sure there is a waiting period. You know. I don’t want to look like a bitch or anything.”

  “So, I’m still the guy you want to keep hidden in a closet?”

  Part of me wants to laugh because his comment reminds me of Kenneth hiding in a closet, but the seriousness on his face stops me. And truly, there really is no adequate response for this other than yes, so I don’t bother answering. Finally, he ends our stalemate.

  “Answer me something. Are you happy you’re not marrying Kenneth?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then why not act it?”

  “Brandon, you don’t know my family. They want me to marry … oh, it’s too hard to explain.”

  He folds his arms over his chest.

  “You don’t think I get it. Like you haven’t talked to me about this before. Maybe not in great detail. But, Jenna, why don’t you try living your own life for a change?”

  “I do live my own life.”

  “Yeah, hiding it from everyone.” I’m ready to cut in and tell him he’s wrong, but he adds, “Answer another question for me. Will we ever get to a point where you will want to be seen in public with me or even around your family?”

  “Y-yes,” I stammer.

  “Doesn’t sound too promising, but I’m not trying to pressure you. You had to face your parents at dinner, and I know it couldn’t have been easy for you.”

  His words gouge a place in my heart because he’s right. I don’t truly live my life, always marching to the beat of my mother’s drum. Trying to please my mom and dad hasn’t worked out very well for me, so why not try something different? But to be fair to Kenneth, I can’t run out like the happiest woman in Charleston, celebrating my breakup.

  “Give me a month. And then we’ll go out.”

  “A month?” He sounds skeptical.

  “Yes,” I say firmly. “But,” I hold up a finger, “I need to take it slow at first. And you have to understand my background.”

  “How about this? When you’re ready, you let me know.”

  He takes several more bites without speaking and finally cleans his plate. “That was delicious.” Then he takes his finger and puts the tip in his mouth and sucks it. This is killing me. When he’s done, he heads to the door.

  “Wait. Where are you going?”

  “Home. Why?”

  “I thought we could spend some time together.”

  “I believe you said you needed time.” He gestures with air quotes. “Proper time for people to get used to your broken engagement. Time to get your head on straight with everything. You’re entitled to all the time you want. But remember, we aren’t in any sort of committed relationship. So when you figure everything out, I might not be there waiting for you.”

  Nooooo, I want to scream. But it was all my idea, so what can I say?

  He breezes by me as he leaves, and all I want to do is grab ahold of him and tell him how much he means to me, not to mention all the dirty things I want to do to him. But he’s gone. And fuck me.

  Eleven

  BRANDON

  Walking in the house, I jam my fist into the wall, needing to hit something. I feel like a fool, wearing my heart like a fucking punching bag for this woman. And she’s jabbed me with shot after shot, like when she got fucking engaged without telling me. I thought we were closer than that. And the only reason she’s no longer with the guy is because he cheated. Now she tells me I have to wait. Maybe I should just hand her my balls after I cut them off. The only problem is, I still want her with a need that’s indescribable.

  And that’s not her problem. It’s mine. She didn’t tell me to wait around like a pansy for her. That had been my choice.

  “What the fuck, man? Are you trying to break your hand or what?”

  I glance up at my brother before looking down at my bloody hand.

  “Shit,” I grit out. I shake my hand as if that would help and head to the kitchen.

  Braedon follows and starts to bag up some ice.

  “What gives? Is it that society girl again?”

  I wish he wouldn’t call Jenna that. It’s a reminder that we come from very different circumstances.

  “No,” I lie, because I don’t want his shit.

  “Good, then maybe you’ll go out with me tonight.”

  That’s an easy answer. “I’m not interested.”

  “Damn, dude. You act like an old grumpy man. How many times do I have to tell you to get laid?”

  “How many ways can I explain to you that sex isn’t everything?” Especially if it’s meaningless, I think.

  “Look, it’s a scientific fact. Sex acts like a drug releasing endorphins in your body much like some of the common drugs. It leaves you with a happy high.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re using that line to get laid.”

  He grins. “It works, and it’s the truth. Trust me. Kym is proof. We’ve been testing the theory, over and over again.”

  “Who’s Kym?”

  “The blonde that was here the other night.”

  “Do you like this one? Or should I forget her name?”

  He’s quiet for a second as he hands over the bag of ice. “I like her.”

  “That’s something,” I mutter.

  Braedon hasn’t liked a girl since that bad high school breakup he had.

  “So get your ass up, old man, and let’s hit a club.”

  “Not interested,” I say flatly.

  “Fine. I’ll have Kym come over and bring her friend. She’s pretty hot.”

  “No, thank you. If she’s Kym’s friend, she’s too young for me anyway.”

  “Dude, you’re like twenty-four, and she’s twenty or twenty-one, I think.”

  Women my age or younger don’t appeal to me. I’ve dated a few, but I’ve always preferred them a little older, even in high school. Mom teased me when I went to prom with a senior girl and I’d been a sophomore. She said then and says now, I’m an old soul.

  “Too late, I’ve already texted her. They are going to be here in a half an hour, so clean your shit up.” He points to my hand. “… and deal. I’ll order pizza.”

  I should leave, but Braedon knows I won’t. I’m not a dick. So I go and patch up my hand and work out a way to tell the girl when she shows up that I’m not interested.

  One woman has a chokehold on my heart, whether I like it or not.

  The night actually turns out semi-fun. Once Braedon and Kym disappear to his bedroom, I’m left with her friend. We make the best of it and talk about the awkwardness of being put together. She ends up explaining that she’d recently broken up with her ex and isn’t quite over him. Her well-meaning friends, like Kym, keep trying to set her up with guys to get her to move on, but according to her, she isn’t ready. That takes the pressure off of everything as I explain that I too am not looking for a relationship for similar reasons. We end up spending the night talking and laughing at ourselves. It’s the first time in what feels like ages I smile for more than a few minutes.

  Up bright and early the next morning, I get to the shop extra early. When Dana shows up, I’m working on a ten-year-old BMW three series. She greets me with a, “Morning, boss,” and I have to smile. Things finally are getting back in order.

  Over the course of the week, my fingers twitch. It’s like I’m having Jenna withdrawals. She may be my drug of choice, but she’s made her position clear. I holler over to Jeff who is getting ready to leave for the day.


  “You want to go out?”

  His brows rise because we haven’t gone out in a while.

  Unfortunately, Dana hears and says, “I’m in.”

  I don’t argue. It’s been one of those rough days when none of the cars are cooperating. We don’t go downtown. On any night, it’s a little too straight-laced for my crew. We head to a bar just outside of town, where those of us who don’t want to fit the mold of high society hang out. Only when we walk in, the townies have invaded.

  “What the fuck?” I say.

  “You’re shitting me,” Dana adds.

  Apparently, Jeff and Dana haven’t been to the club in a while either.

  The crowd is a mix of college students and some of the regulars. A live band plays in the corner and people dance, jumping around like crazy where tables used to be.

  Jeff shrugs and makes his way to the bar. I follow with Dana on my heels. As our drinks arrive, I spot a familiar face. I take my glass and tell Dana and Jeff I’ll be back. Wading my way through the crowd, I greet her.

  “Samantha, right?”

  She nods. “And you’re Brandon.”

  Silently, I agree. “What brings you here tonight? Is Ben with you?”

  She gives me a look a mother would give a child during a scolding, a look I know.

  “I can go out without him. He trusts me.”

  Her indulgent smile has me backpedaling.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “It’s okay.” She points in the direction of the stage. “I’m here with my friend, Berkeley. She’s dating one of the band members.”

  I glance over at the band and lift a brow.

  “Have fun. If you need me, I’ll be over there.”

  Just because townies have invaded doesn’t mean the bar is the safest place to be. I catch sight of members of a motorcycle club sitting in another corner, amused by the newest crowd. I don’t know Ben all that well, but I will keep an eye on his woman to make sure she won’t be bothered.